I Became a Mythical Hunter After Killing the Golden Goblin - Chapter 123

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 123. The Foreseer Pope
BOOM!!!
A deafening explosion swept through the Warehouse. The floor was drenched in blood, chunks of what had once been human bodies hung suspended from the ceiling, and a massive summoning circle was drawn across the ground.
The Puppet Master, having decided to abandon everything and flee, had detonated over ten puppets in a rampage.
Through the smoke, I grabbed my throbbing head and rose, using Heal to mend my wounds.
“Damn bastard.”
He’d destroyed everything rather than lose. He’d even forced Saint to flee. Damn it—that transference magic was imprinted on the puppets too.
Manifesting the Solar Divine Art, I endured the massive explosion without a scratch. I incinerated all the smoke inside the Warehouse, burning it away completely.
“Is everyone alright?”
The first to catch my eye was Belial, whose beauty was only accentuated by her expression of irritation and fury. She could not forgive the Puppet Master for daring to interfere with Solomon’s avatar, and had charged in with lethal intent—only to fail.
More precisely, she could have killed him, but he’d detonated himself instead.
Flap!
Belial didn’t answer. She simply spread her wings and flew away from the Warehouse.
She needed time alone. As a great Demon King and Fallen Angel, it was shameful to fail to kill even a single insignificant creature that lived only by their mercy.
It was also a consequence of her resurrection, with most of her power and rank sealed away.
I let her go to suppress her emotions and turned my head to check the opposite side.
There stood a sacred and beautifully radiant golden barrier. Its absolute solidity and grandeur—which seemed unbreakable—had just been dispelled, and within it lay a single person, unconscious.
I rushed over and caught Gun-dan as he collapsed, checking his condition. Sai-han, who was carrying the unconscious Min Cho-rong, opened his mouth.
“Mild mana overload. He pushed himself too hard trying to block the explosion. He’ll be fine in a few hours. Give him a mana potion if you have one. I’m not particularly suited for defense, so I had to rely on him. If I were alone, I would have dodged somehow, but…”
“It’s fine. You did more than enough.”
I immediately pulled out a high-grade SSS-rank mana potion from my inventory and poured it into Gun-dan’s mouth. Only then did his furrowed expression ease slightly, and I let out a sigh of relief before sitting down.
As for losses—I’d destroyed one of his bases, killed a considerable number of powerful puppets, and shattered what was clearly an important summoning circle. That meant I’d gained much.
But I’d failed to accomplish the most important thing: killing Saint. No—I’d hesitated in that moment, and because of it, I couldn’t kill her.
‘What would happen if I killed Saint?’
That momentary question in my mind had created hesitation, and Saint Isabella escaped the crisis with the Puppet Master’s help.
My mind was complicated. The fact that I’d only remembered the most crucial detail at that moment bothered me, as did my hesitation.
A Saint is a chaste woman beloved by the gods. Naturally, divine protection follows her. If I kill her, would I face divine punishment? Would I not? That question continues to complicate my thoughts.
There are certainly Divine Seats like Heracles who cannot move due to circumstances, but there are also Divine Seats that exert influence on the lower realm while bearing massive costs.
Like demons and devils, they spread influence through apostles like Ma-in or through incarnations, or they pay enormous prices to the System to directly intervene in the lower realm.
Of course, I haven’t encountered such a Divine Seat yet. At most, I’ve only felt influence from Asclepius granting me a portion of a title’s power.
Well, Azazel is an exception since he was resurrected. Solomon’s avatar is also an exception since it was already on this land.
Anyway, what matters is this.
‘From the moment I joined hands with Ma-in and the Demon King, it would be difficult for Saint to receive the love of the gods.’
But there’s always a one-in-a-million chance. After all, isn’t the Demon King ultimately just one of the Divine Seats?
Broadly speaking, the Demon King, devils, demon gods, and angels are all the same Divine Seats.
It’s common knowledge that the Divine Seats of the Demon Realm don’t get along with other Divine Seats, but to emphasize again, a one-in-a-million chance always exists.
The most fundamental reason I came to this question was this: Saint Isabella, who had planned to destroy the Holy Kingdom—the Divine Seats’ territory—alongside Ma-in and the Demon King, had not been excommunicated.
With a scale this grand, she must have been preparing for quite some time.
That means some remaining Divine Seat or Seats are watching over her and protecting her. And those Divine Seats must be beings of considerable influence and power.
No matter how infrequently the Divine Seats turn their gaze to the lower realm, if a being called a Saint—one beloved by the gods—had undertaken such an act, the probability they knew about it was high.
“It’s done. I couldn’t kill him anyway…so what does it matter now?”
I brushed myself off and rose from my seat, hoisting the unconscious Gun-dan onto my back before slipping back to Min Cho-rong’s room. Now all that remained was devising a new strategy.
In the end, I’d caught the big game in this fishing expedition. But the result was bittersweet—I’d only secured half of what I needed, while the other half had been severed and released back into the sea.
Now only an all-out war remained. I gazed up at the darkening night sky, then slipped silently through the window and departed.
There was someone I needed to meet. I vanished into the darkness and made my way forward.
***
Inside a spacious chamber, a middle-aged man lay sleeping. His face was utterly unremarkable—the kind you’d see dozens of times if you walked down any street. Yet his presence commanded something far greater.
But looking at the bedroom where he rested, one could sense just how extraordinary he truly was.
At the very heart of the Grand Temple, that colossal structure erected in the center of the Holy Kingdom, stood the most central chamber. The place where four cardinals maintained their offices on all sides. A vast bedroom granted to one person alone.
And I had entered that place. Secretly. It should have been impossible.
Security was impenetrable, countless barriers wrapped tightly around the bedroom, and alarm devices were stationed throughout, ready to sound the moment an intruder was detected.
Even the semi-sacred artifact installed at the very center of the bedroom had transformed this place into a kind of sanctuary.
Yet I had entered. And without difficulty, at that.
The moment my feet crossed the threshold through the bedroom window, the man lying in bed slowly opened his eyes and rose.
“Welcome. Irregular who has set foot upon this land.”
Golden irises turned toward me. Those eyes—so sacred, so noble, so beautiful—seemed to pierce through me, comprehending everything. And yet, he had done nothing.
My powers and the supreme soul gave no reaction, confirming he truly had done nothing at all.
It was merely the weight of his presence, the gravity in his every movement and glance, that created such an atmosphere.
I swallowed hard. I hadn’t thought I’d been discovered sneaking in, but could it be he’d actually invited me? Or could this even be called an invitation?
“Did you know I would come?”
At my question, the middle-aged man—no, the Pope—smiled faintly and nodded. Simultaneously, his golden eyes grew more vivid, and within them, tiny gears began to reveal themselves.
It was time. I could sense it instinctively. Was it because I was a returner who had transcended time? Or because of my rune—time and the hourglass? I couldn’t determine the source, but one thing was certain.
Those gears were the manifestation of vast, immeasurable time.
“A rune?”
“Precisely. A miracle bestowed upon me by my Divine Seat. Undeservedly, I have been granted but the tiniest, most infinitesimal speck of dust from that grand and magnificent law known as time.”
The answer became clear. The power he possessed.
“Future Sight.”
“Indeed, reasoning befitting one so intimately connected with time. Correct. I am one who possesses Future Sight. The great Divine Seat: the embodiment of the lily that conveys prophetic revelation. I am Pope Haramib.”
Without thinking, I straightened and responded to his introduction with courtesy.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Shin Ju-ha, from the dimension known as Earth.”
“I am aware. You are far too fascinating a being for me to ignore.”
The Pope rose from his seat. In an instant, papal vestments adorned his body, and he was suddenly seated across from me at a table, pushing a cup of brewed tea in my direction.
As if he had skipped through time itself. Or perhaps he had drawn himself from a future moment in time?
“Drink it while it’s warm. It’s good for the body. We have plenty of time to talk yet.”
I carefully took my seat and swallowed the tea. I drank cautiously, wondering if poison might be hidden within, but there was none.
I had heard much of the Pope and now saw him directly, so I knew he wouldn’t resort to poison. Yet I couldn’t help but feel tense.
After all, he was the strongest being in the Holy Kingdom—someone even Bartroy couldn’t defeat, someone who could only suffer before him.
“You need not be nervous. I will do you no harm whatsoever. Of course, you cannot simply take my word for it.”
He was right. I sipped my tea and my mind raced. I had come to meet him, but I couldn’t easily ask what lay beneath his words. In a sense, it would have been rude.
“You have the look of someone with questions. To answer them: I cannot intervene.”
My face twisted slightly. A catastrophe of this magnitude was unfolding, the Holy Kingdom itself teetered on the brink of annihilation, and yet I was being told I couldn’t intervene?
“It is the fate of one who perceives the future. I cannot meddle with destiny, causality, or the flow of time itself. Especially not this time.”
“Why not?”
“Because you possess not a complete law, but merely the faintest, most unstable ripple of influence—dust motes in the cosmic wind, so to speak. Ordinarily, I could exert minor influence here and there. Through such subtle manipulations, I’ve managed to ascend to this excessive position of Pope. Though I confess, I’m little more than a figurehead. Hehehehe.”
I watched the Pope laugh. What was so amusing? This was a crisis that could easily cost him his life.
When I fixed him with a gaze reflecting that sentiment, his expression hardened the moment our eyes met. It was the first time I’d seen the Pope without that smile, and the sight sent chills down my spine.
It wasn’t malice or murderous intent that emanated from his face.
Curiosity. An overwhelming, almost manic fascination that terrified me.
“The reason I cannot act is because of you. An irregular, Shin Ju-ha. That is why I invited you here. Why? Why do you alone exist outside the bounds of fate? How did a mere speck of dust cast off the chains of destiny?”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————